


Good Luck Charms

by WallaceAndGromitGirl



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Autism, Bittersweet Ending, Developing Relationship, Friendship, Implied Relationships, Jewelry, Multi, Near Death Experiences, Neurodiversity, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 23:36:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8422045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WallaceAndGromitGirl/pseuds/WallaceAndGromitGirl
Summary: In which Tracer stumbles upon the evolution of an unlikely friendship and is very, very confused.





	

One afternoon, when she and everyone else are in Watchpoint Gibraltar’s mess hall after a particularly long training session, Tracer happens to notice something small and shiny dangling from Junkrat’s harness. At first she thinks little of it, thinks that it’s probably just some piece of gadgetry from the lab that caught his eye. Winston says the Junker should be allowed to take whatever he wants from the lab, as long as it isn’t pure uranium or a jar of peanut butter, and this arrangement has worked out for everyone so far.

Another bit of light glints off the shiny thing as Junkrat pulls it off himself and starts to fiddle with it as he flops down on a bench near the wall. He turns it over and over in his rusted metal fingers, and by now Tracer has realized that he’s actually stopped talking for once. Must be quite the prize, whatever he’s snatched. It looks like a jewel, or maybe a piece of blue glass…

She pauses with an apple halfway to her lips as she abruptly realizes what she’s looking at.

Her first instinct is to zip off at once and go find Symmetra, and then it occurs to her that the Vishkar girl would certainly know her earring was missing by now. No doubt she’ll come storming over in a few moments, demanding he return what he’s taken in the same sharp tones that Lucio puts on whenever he imitates her. In fact, Tracer feels a surge of morbid anticipation at the thought. It’s not that she _wants_ to see Junkrat and Symmetra come to blows, far from it. She just still isn’t sure if it’s even possible for Symmetra to get angry enough for that.

Unfortunately, Lucio and D.Va choose this particular moment to sit down across from her and strike up a conversation about some ideas they’ve been thinking up for the former’s rollerskates. Tracer does her best to listen to them, but her attention keeps straying towards the mess hall doors. It’s got to happen any minute now…

There she is! Symmetra pauses in the doorway, overlooking the room with that small scowl of hers. She’s been here a few weeks and still hasn’t worn anything other than her Vishkar uniforms, as though she wants to remind herself and everyone else that she won’t be here for long. She pushes a stray lock of hair behind her ear as her eyes dart back and forth over the room and finally settling on Junkrat.

_Here it comes,_ Tracer thinks.

But Symmetra doesn’t stalk towards him as soon as she sees the earring. In fact, after that first glance she doesn’t even look at him for the rest of the lunch break. Instead she walks right past him, picks up a salad and sits as far away from the rest of the group as she can. Junkrat notices her once or twice but makes no effort to hide his stolen loot. In fact, he even waves at her in a fruitless effort to get her attention. Tracer begins to entertain the thought that she has blinked into some bizarro universe by accident.

As soon as lunch ends, Tracer makes her way to Symmetra’s side and stays there. “You got a minute?”

Symmetra doesn’t look at her. “What do you need?”

“You’re missin’ an earring.” When Symmetra says nothing in response, Tracer decides to push forward. “Junkrat’s got it! I saw ‘im with it myself!”

“I am aware.”

“If you don’t wanna deal with ‘im, I can just…” Tracer stops. “Wait, what did ya say?”

“I said I know that he has it,” Symmetra answers, starting to look a little more annoyed. “I told him he could.”

“…You feelin’ alright, luv?”

Symmetra looks at her with a raised eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, never mind.”

Tracer is about to blink away when Symmetra continues talking. “It’s an arrangement we have. It makes our work more efficient.”

“Oh? And how does that work?”

“He seems to need assistance in energy channeling and focus of concentration. And he expressed interest in closer examination of hard light constructs.”

Now that is something Tracer can wrap her mind around. She doesn’t quite believe that that fancy tech is the key to making Junkrat less daft, though; if anything, the opposite is true. Like at the shooting range a few days ago, when he’d been watching Symmetra practice off to the side when he was supposed to be adjusting the trajectory of the frag launcher. Somehow a grenade had shot off without his noticing, bounced off a pillar and hit him in a…rather unfortunate area. Tracer had burst out laughing and gotten chased off by a tire for her trouble.

“Right, energy an’ concentration an’ all that…?”

“Simply put, it has a calming effect on him.”

“An’ how’d you figure that one out?”

“Observation and prior experience.” Symmetra touches her good wrist, a seemingly subconscious motion, and Tracer notices something she hasn’t seen there before. She’s wearing a little bracelet made from layers of twisted wire, adorned with square nuts that she spins with her fingers as she walks. Seems she and the Junker made a trade.

_Ah, whatever,_ Tracer thinks. It’s none of her business anyway. At least they’re going to get some work done in the lab. Winston will be pleased by that. “Well, see you ‘round, then,” she says and blinks away, already putting the whole thing out of her mind.

* * *

The second time Tracer notices the earring and the bracelet is a few months later, when the team nearly loses Junkrat in Ilios.

There’s been suspected Talon activity near the ruins outside town; Winston thinks they’re interested in the artifacts. Locals who have dared to go investigate haven’t come back, and the law is more interested in covering things up for the tourists’ sake. The whole team flies out under cover of night, preparing for a quick scuffle and a quicker extraction.

When they touch down and leave the Orca, they’re greeted with a rain of gunfire. There must be twice as many Talon operatives as Winston estimated; what’s more, they’re ready when Overwatch comes. Reinhardt manages to break the barrier and get everyone through, but it just closes back around them and forces them towards the center of the ruins, where even more soldiers are waiting to finish the job.

Even with her above-average sensitivity to time, Tracer isn’t quite sure how what happens next comes about. She remembers having her hands behind her and trying to kick some Talon bloke who was reaching for her chronal accelerator. In the corner of her eye, Junkrat is fighting to keep his frag launcher while Symmetra is standing not far off. Tracer thinks she sees their eyes meet, that the Junker smirks and winks at the Vishkar girl, who nods back. What she definitely remembers is Symmetra suddenly blasting away the Talon op with a ball of energy while Junkrat hauls the rip-tire off his back.

_“Now!”_ she shouts as the enemy line retracts, and Junkrat pulls the chain.

The rip-tire flares to life, and so do the two sentry turrets attached to either side of it. The Talon agents break and scatter as the weapon roars into her midst; the turrets take out those who don’t get run over. Meanwhile, Symmetra has begun passing out photon shields and Junkrat is peppering what’s left of the line with grenades. Roadhog is the first to rejoin him, taking out half a dozen with one blast from the scrap gun, and the rest of Overwatch follows suit.

Junkrat’s tire collides with an orange column and explodes, carving out a series of small cracks that immediately start to grow larger. Winston is the first to notice the roof of the old temple starting to cave in. “Everybody _out!”_ he yells, and most of them are quick to comply.

Junkrat is still lobbing grenades when the roof comes down. Roadhog throws out his chain hook to catch him, but Tracer never sees if it does; the ancient tons of stone come down first.

Dirt and dust fill the air, clogging up eyes and throats. There is no sign of the Talon agents when it all clears, nor a sign of the Junker.

Symmetra is the first to get back on her feet and hurry towards the wreckage. “Where’s Ja…” She stops, swallows whatever she was about to say. “…Where’s Junkrat?”

Roadhog is pulling what remains of his empty chain hook out from beneath a stone. The whole field falls silent: Mei gasps and covers her mouth with both hands, while McCree starts to take off his hat. Symmetra doesn’t move a muscle, yet she’s showing more emotion than Tracer has even seen her reveal before. Even from several feet away, her eyes seem to be burning with rage and despair in equal measure.

“Well, that was a fine how-do-you-do, don’tcha think?”

Everyone looks up as a familiar form emerges from the rubble. Junkrat is covered in dust and his hair is smoldering more than usual, but beyond that he seems fine. When he sees Symmetra, a toothy grin spreads across his face. “Didn’t I tell ya it’d be grand?”

For a moment it looks like the Vishkar girl is going to slap him. Instead she grabs him by the shoulders and shakes him like he’s a ragdoll. _“Never,”_ she hisses, _“ever_ do that again.”

“I got the job done, didn’t I?” he answers. “Besides…” He gestures to the blue earring that’s still on his harness. “I brought me good luck charm along.”

By now, the drama of the preceding moments has worn off for McCree. “Alright, alright,” he drawls, putting his hat back on and holstering his revolver. “Y’all can do couples’ therapy later.”

They track the remaining Talon agents back to their base, free the captured locals and then make for the Orca as quickly as they can. Mercy won’t stop going on about how Junkrat’s just obliterated one third of an international heritage site, while he simply rolls his eyes and mutters something about how it was all falling apart anyway.

Tracer can’t recall much of the flight home; her nerves are still rattled, so she puts the Orca on autopilot and sinks into the nearest seat. Across from her, Junkrat and Symmetra are sitting together. The Junker is looking down at his good hand, rolling the glinting piece of jewelry between his fingers. Symmetra stares ahead at nothing in particular, her hands folded in her lap; she spins the nuts on her bracelet back and forth in time with her quick breaths.

Junkrat slowly extends his metal hand and places it near her own. She sighs, hesitates a moment, and then closes the gap. That’s how they stay until they return to the Watchpoint.

* * *

Eight months – that was all the time Vishkar was willing to give its prized architech for Overwatch work. It doesn’t feel nearly that long.

Most of the team wants to throw Symmetra a going-away party of sorts, but she refuses. It would only be a waste of resources, she says. Besides, her handlers back at Vishkar will be expecting her as soon as she’s available.

_Handlers._ Tracer hates that word in this context. Symmetra isn’t something to be handled. Junkrat appears to share her sentiments, judging from the way he scowls at the word.

On the day she leaves, Symmetra says a quiet goodbye to everyone at the Watchpoint and then heads for the aircraft hangar. Tracer follows her down without meaning to; she left her phone in one of the cockpits the last time she went out for a test flight. The large door is open and afternoon light is streaming in, so she doesn’t notice the two nearby figures right away. When she does, she stops and then ducks behind a plane wheel to watch.

Symmetra is talking to Junkrat – Tracer didn’t even recognize him at first. He’s clean, for one thing, plus he’s actually standing up straight. It’s the first time he’s looked like a man instead of a wild, irradiated mess. His face is eerily solemn as he whispers something to his friend. Tracer can’t make out the bulk of it, only that somewhere in there he calls her Satya.

Then he starts to fumble with his harness, pulls off the earring, holds it out to her with an apologetic look. She shakes her head, then takes his hand and gently closes his fingers around the jewel. But why let him keep it if there’s no more need for that arrangement of theirs?

She speaks. “You should come visit, Jamison.”

He laughs joylessly. “Don’t think your bosses an’ I would work well together. Be better if you came back. Ev’ry now an’ then, I mean.”

The smile she gives him is a fragile one. “We’ll see…”

She steps closer to him, a movement he echoes, and raises a hand towards his cheek as though to let it rest there. Tracer is very glad she doesn’t have her phone, or else the temptation to record this would be too great.

All of a sudden, Symmetra stiffens and pulls away. “Transport’s nearly here,” she manages to say as she checks her phone for a message Tracer is fairly sure doesn’t exist. “It was a privilege working with you.”

She walks away from him without another word. Only as she’s getting into the small Vishkar helicopter which lands outside does she look back at him, and that’s only for a moment. He watches her until she is gone, clutching the little earring in his hand like he needs it to survive.

By now, Roadhog has come looking for his partner. The smaller Junker scowls at him as he is ushered inside. “I’m _fine,_ Hog. Glad to see ‘er go, really…”

Tracer knows now that he’s lying.


End file.
